Chapter 39
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: The Heavenly Demon's Victory...?
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"..."
"..."
Hermes, frozen solid with his bright smile still plastered on his face.
Seeing that, I cheered Nice! to myself inside.
The healer's ward was enveloped in silence, a whirlwind of mixed emotions hanging in the air.
"Hm?"
"What's wrong?"
I tilted my head innocently, flashing a pure, clueless smile, and Hermes strained to cock his head with a creaking sound.
"W-Well, you see... Ah! You asked about the location of Perseus's treasure trove, right?"
"Man, that guy was one heck of a hero. The sword he used to behead the tragic Medusa..."
"The one who sent you must be quite the high-up, huh?"
This sly messenger god was trying to slither away like an eel crossing a fence, changing the subject so blatantly without even hiding it.
Honestly, his reaction alone gave me most of the answer, but I decided to push a little further here.
"Not a vow on the Styx, I guess. If you weren't allowed to speak, you'd have twisted things into knots to give me a headache."
Wordplay like that could backfire big time if word got back to the person involved later.
And with his eloquence and trickster skills not working—or even if they did, the cleanup would be impossible—he wouldn't dare try it against someone like that.
"W-Well, you see..."
"That means this matter involving me is a pretty serious issue between that person and you, Hermes."
"And it's confirmed that the one who prettied up Atalanta so nicely and gave her that mysterious elixir is the same one who sent you."
Honestly, the Atalanta stuff was half a gamble.
Asclepius had raved about the few drops of elixir left in that bottle, saying it held magical power far beyond modern medicine, and Atalanta had fed it to me—the same Atalanta who brought it, now adorned in that excessively beautiful, perfectly fitting twilight-colored chiton.
All these things happening one after another, and suddenly the gods' messenger rushes not just anywhere, but straight to the healer's ward?
Too many coincidences piling up.
So I tossed in a probing question mixed with the rest, just in case.
And yep, bingo again.
"If the one who dressed Atalanta up, the one who gave her the elixir, and the one who sent you were all different people, you wouldn't be panicking like this."
If he'd pulled strings himself or helped through Atalanta, his reaction would've been different.
Probably a smug grin while snarking that there's only one possible answer.
Or trying to mess with me using some bizarre riddle.
"Aha..."
"What else?"
"That person watched my duel with Heracles in person, didn't they?"
In other words, that person's eyes might still be on this place.
That's why Hermes couldn't resort to wordplay just to get out of this immediately.
"Let's sum it up, shall we? The gods' messenger, one of Olympus's proud Twelve Olympians, finds this topic uncomfortable to even mention, so no riddles to dodge it."
"Someone who watched my duel with Heracles, was satisfied, and sent down a lovely beauty along with a magical elixir..."
Sometimes, crushing everything with overwhelming force is the cleanest, most convenient way.
In fact, after unifying the entire Heavenly Demon Divine Church under my command and launching the conquest of the Central Plains, no one dared face me head-on. Naturally.
But before reaching that position, how many headache-inducing types had I dealt with?
Especially Guixian Scholar, who tested me with all-night question-and-answer sessions before becoming my strategist, or among the Twelve Divine Demons, the likes of Divine Talent Ghost who tormented my head with grasping-at-clouds riddles.
And talking with Hermes here, I could tell he was cut from the same cloth.
The type who gets a kick out of toying with people using riddles and tricks—a twisted personality, plain and simple.
And the best way to deal with that kind of person?
Beat them at their own game.
'Of course, Hermes was practically tied hand and foot this time.'
It might bruise Hermes's ego, but I was pressing him like this to drive the nail in deep.
"...I need to change the question."
"What?!"
Like Zen koans or Socratic method, explaining and organizing it step by step for Hermes without realizing it.
The answer was already as good as out there.
'...Not Zeus.'
It's not Zeus.
I haven't seen Zeus in person yet, so I can't be 100% sure.
But if Zeus were watching me, he wouldn't beat around the bush like this.
No matter how modern depictions paint him as a lecherous playboy by 21st-century standards, he's undeniably the king of the myths.
The mightiest god who overthrew the first farmer, the Titan king of time, Cronus.
Hermes is practically his personal messenger, a close aide who proudly serves as Zeus's herald and accompanies him on his incognito trips.
If he'd come on Zeus's orders, he wouldn't have been so wary of me from the start.
He'd have boasted about it right from the get-go.
And that indiscriminate philanderer sending a cutie like Atalanta all prettied up to me?
More believable that a lust demon shaved his head and took Buddhist vows.
So, another Olympian god?
No, that doesn't fit either.
This guy's the notorious thief who raided the sun god Apollo's cattle as a toddler and erased all evidence.
No matter which of the Twelve Olympians, it doesn't make sense for him to be this uncomfortable.
Plus, Ares and Poseidon, whom I've built some favor with, or Artemis, who keeps pestering me—none of them would send this busy messenger in person under these circumstances.
So, only one god left.
"Queen of the gods, Lady of Olympus, third daughter of Cronus."
"Hic! Hic! Hic!"
As I recited the epithets of the goddess I was about 50% sure of, the golden-curled god jolted with hiccups each time.
Indeed, to a company man, the chairman's wife is scarier than the chairman himself.
"...No need for an answer, I see."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the rare sight of a noble god's daughter hiccupping, and Hermes snapped back to his senses, clutching his head.
"Th-This can't be! Me! The trickster pouch of Olympus, outwitted like this—my reputation in tatters!"
Honestly, this debate(?) put Hermes at a severe disadvantage.
A topic he couldn't discuss freely, struck from a totally unexpected angle.
Of course, it was his fault for dropping his guard first and allowing the preemptive strike.
Any other Greek hero might've been different, but against me? Getting cornered like this was inevitable.
"Fine, you're right! Brother Ares, Lord Poseidon! Even Lady Hera favors you so much! They got fed up with my dithering and sent me to check you out myself!"
Like he'd given up, Hermes flopped onto the bed beside him and threw a tantrum.
But I had no time to laugh at the sight—I clutched my head at the now-confirmed fact.
"Hera... Lady Hera..."
In my knowledge, if Zeus was king of the gods and a total playboy,
then Hera was queen of the gods and a disaster for heroes.
Can't touch the husband, so she brutally goes after his mistresses and kids instead—the number one target to avoid for any hero or demigod.
And that goddess was paying attention to me?
"I'm not gonna get gruesomely murdered later, right?"
"Gruesomely murdered?"
"It means dying horribly."
For starters, judging by my demonic qi, which is the polar opposite of Heracles's divine power, I'm definitely not of Zeus's bloodline.
And considering she personally dolled up Atalanta and sent her with that elixir Asclepius praised to the skies, the queen of the gods clearly had some favor toward me.
However, in this mythical world, a god's favor usually spells bad news for heroes, if not plain mortals.
So, the wife of the supreme god taking a shine to me was pretty damn troubling.
"...What're you on about? You're one of the rare heroes these days swimming in Her Majesty's blessings."
Pouting as he grumbled, Hermes got up from the bed and sat facing me again.
"Whew... Never thought you'd poke there. Aren't you curious about your own bloodline?"
"I figured you'd ask that, so I prepared a killer riddle after much deliberation."
As expected.
Hermes knew about my lineage.
But I'd just met the one who shaped this body of mine,
and investigating and exploring that existence was my training in itself.
Instead of blowing this golden opportunity like cheating off an answer sheet, probing the unknown right in front of me and landing a hit on this sly messenger god who reminded me of my old comrades came first.
Honestly, it was kinda fun.
"Getting to know that person is their little amusement and my assignment."
"Plus, a certain protector of beautiful travelers dropped a huge hint."
"D'oh...! I underestimated you!"
Slapping his forehead dramatically like he'd taken a real hit, Hermes didn't seem actually offended.
"Not upset?"
"Huh? Me? Why would I be?"
Hermes shrugged like it was the most amusing thing at my question.
"Better than those humans or heroes who grovel at the name of a god."
"Guys who charge in ready to play are way more fun. In that sense, you're a riot!"
Like a pro gamer who'd just lost a close match in an exciting game, Hermes laughed heartily.
"Good to hear."
"Yeah... Her Majesty was right. I was fretting over nothing."
Nodding like he'd checked everything off, Hermes looked refreshed.
"As you said, the queen of the gods, the goddess of the beautiful eyes, has been watching over you."
"If you didn't know, fine—but make sure to thank her properly later."
"Of course. Any favorite offerings, or should I avoid anything that might get my head smashed?"
"Offerings that get your head smashed... New phrase? Hilarious!"
Maybe 21st-century gaming slang is a bit much for this pure era where even "crow carries a curse" is the worst insult.
Watching Hermes get all excited like a kid over swears, I made a mental note to tone it down.
"Hmm, let's see... Lady Hera accepts any heartfelt offering without refusal."
"But lately, that poem you dedicated is all the rage on Olympus. Write a fancy one like the ones for her father and offer it with a fat cow."
"...Poem?"
Had I written any poems lately?
As I pondered, Hermes gave me a look like I was an idiot.
"What, no? The poem you offered with the wild boar at Brother Ares's temple, and the one to Father Zeus?"
"Ah! That? Why's it matter?"
The first time I visited the war god Ares's temple, the thought hit me.
Sure, I'm like this now, but in my past life, I was the Heavenly Demon of the Heavenly Demon Divine Church, high priest to the war god Asura.
World's different, but just dropping an offering and leaving without proper respects to this land's war god felt off.
So I improvised something blending the Heavenly Demon Records and a sacrificial text I remembered, offering it with the sacrifice.
And it's trending on Olympus?
Something told me huge things were happening behind my back that I had no clue about...
"Nngh...!"
"Oh...?"
As I mulled over this profoundly ominous feeling,
Hermes, mischief sparkling in his eyes at my expression, casually dropped another bomb.
"...How about the news of the wrathful moon goddess rushing to her brother's temple in tears?"
"What!?"
Damn it.
The offerings weren't the issue now.